


Safe

by machka



Series: Hard Lessons [2]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Tulsa Gangstas
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-25
Updated: 2008-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machka/pseuds/machka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit more of the aftermath of "Broken Trust"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Continues with what happens in Andy's apartment after David arrives.
> 
> Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. The events described therein are not intended to represent actual events. No libel or defamation is intended in posting said fictitious work.
> 
> In other words, it's not real, because I made it all up.

Gentle fingertips were brushing through his hair, drawing him out of the darkness of his dreams.

This simply couldn't be his apartment. God knows he never would have been allowed the opportunity to nap on their couch with Michael and Jason around, and neither would've dared to _pet_ him like this...

David twitched a wrist experimentally and winced at the bolt of pain that shot through it, yanking him from the amnesia of sleep into reality.

The fingers paused in their motion. "You awake?"

A soft, familiar voice; one that spoke of comfort, security, and home...

 _Andy._

"What time is it?" David mumbled, nuzzling wearily into the pillow of Andy's lap.

"Just past six-thirty."

David swore softly under his breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, we were all s'posed to meet at six for dinner... Lythgoe and a couple other corporate stooges were going to be there..." David paused uncertainly, lifting his head to glance around. "Where the hell's my phone, and why is it not ringing off the hook by now?"

"Oh, no doubt it should be," Andy replied with a undertone of amusement. "Here," he offered, dangling the sought-for item in front of David's face, his teasing smile slipping somewhat when he noticed David's grimace while reaching for it.

David flipped the phone open, blinked at its black screen, and turned his head to eyeball Andy suspiciously. "It's off."

Andy shrugged, completely unapologetic. "Hey, you were sleeping, Dave -- as overworked as you claim to be, I figured you needed the rest..."

"Damn it, Andy, you're gonna get me fired!" David muttered in exasperation, and Andy responded with laughter.

"Seriously, Dave? If your almighty 'corporate' even so much as thinks of firing _the_ American Idol, I'll eat your crappy-assed hat."

"Five fucking voicemails, Andy -- wait, which hat? -- anyway, _five_ of 'em!" David groused. "Fucking fabulous..."

"Either hat. Now quit'cher bitchin' and listen to 'em if they're so important!"

David's answering smile faded gradually, his face becoming a little more grim with each message that played.

Without a word, he finally lowered the phone from his ear and fixed his gaze on the wall opposite.

"What -- all of them from Michael?" Andy prodded playfully, trying to lighten the mood that had settled around his friend like a shroud.

"No..." David replied softly, "Actually, _none_ of them were from Michael -- just my 'handler'."

"Oh," Andy murmured.

"No, it's fine," David insisted, waving him off. "I didn't really think he'd call."

The unexpected break in his voice, however, revealed otherwise.

Andy's resultant shoulder squeeze silently informed him that Andy knew he was bullshitting, but was willing to let it slide in order to help David maintain his sanity.

David responded by shoving a hand under Andy's leg, burrowing his face into the younger man's thigh.

Neither would ever think of mentioning that a few stray tears made their way through the fabric of Andy's sweatpants.

"You really do love him."

No answer.

"David, he's not _good_ for you. Remember what happened with Neal?"

A muffled choking sound escaped David involuntarily.

"Michael's the exact same kind of dangerous, only with the added excitement of inexperienced recklessness," Andy continued gently. "And David, it's exactly the _wrong_ kind of dominant for you to submit to. You're too proud, and you think too much of yourself _as a person_ to ever properly submit to them, in the way that Doms like them require. You need to let him go."

"And I s'pose you know exactly the right kind of Dom for me," David retorted sullenly.

"Yes. And stop being so petulant."

David glanced up with a hint of surprise, meeting Andy's gaze only briefly before looking away.

Andy's lips curved up into a faint smile.

Huffing self-consciously, David stared at his phone for a few moments. "I should call them."

"Yeah, you probably should," Andy agreed, ignoring his friend's discomfiture. "Y'want me to whip ya up some dinner, since you missed yours?"

"I'm not really hungry," he answered, still staring at the phone as though it would dial itself.

"Well, then...d'ya mind if I get my own?"

David started guiltily, struggling to right himself. "Andy! Have you been sitting here this whole time?"

Andy bounced his leg dramatically, his easy laughter filling the room. "It's okay, David -- my leg finally fell asleep about two hours ago under the weight of your massive skull, so it wasn't _too_ horribly uncomfortable after that...For fuck's sake, Cook -- stop apologizing, and call your damn keeper!"

" _Handler,_ Andy -- they're called handlers."

"Keeper, handler, trainer... What the fuck _ever,_ Dave..." Andy's laughter trailed him into the small kitchenette, leaving David alone with only his thoughts and a silent phone.

\----------

"Cook, you'd better have a damned good excuse for me right now - Nigel is abso-fucking-lutely _livid_!"

"Hi, Bobby, how are you? 'Oh, I'm fine, David, and yourself?'..."

"Don't give me that goddamned bullshit, Cook -- I just got my ass busted by seven different corporate suits because I couldn't account for your whereabouts!"

"...Excuse me?"

"We've told you people I-don't-know-how-many-times: you can't just up and leave on your own - you have to clear it with us first! If something happens to you while you're out there, it's my ass that's on the line, you know that? How fucking selfish do you have to be?"

"Dude!"

"Now tell me where you are -- I'm sending a car to get you."

"No, Bobby, that's not why I called..."

"Stop playing games with me, Cook -- I don't have fucking time for it right now. Tell me where the fuck you are, so I can send a fucking car to pick your fucking ass up, and we'll discuss it when you get here, end of story!"

"Stop treating me like a fucking _child_ , Bobby! I'm not twelve years old, and I'm sick of being fucking _smothered_ by you people! I'm where I'm at, with whomever I'm with, and I'm not going anywhere."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. David, seriously -- we need to know where you are so we..."

"So you can keep tabs on me? So you can protect me from the evil in the world?" He couldn't keep the hysteria from flooding back and coloring his words. "Bobby, I swear to God -- I'm safer here than I'd ever be in those damned apartments!"

"David--"

"Bobby! Don't worry about me. I promise you -- I'm _safe._ "

His voice cracked on the last word, and he yanked the phone down from his ear, stabbing the power-off key as he flung it onto the table, burying his face in his hands with a groan.

Something cold and wet pressed against his shoulder.

"Here." Andy's quiet voice cut through the roaring of blood in his ears. "Thought you could use this."

David accepted the bottle automatically, and gulped down about half of its contents before just cradling it in his hands before him. He stared at it without really seeing, absent-mindedly working the edge of the label with a fingernail.

"I guess," he mumbled, turning the bottle in his hands several times before glancing up. "...But I think I could use a friend more."

Andy cracked a crooked half-smile and nodded in response. "You got it."

\----------

"Nuh-uh, David -- bed!"

"But 'm _comf'table_ here..."

"Stop whining, you. There's no way in Hell I'm gonna let _the_ American Idol sleep on my lumpy-assed curbside-rescued couch!"

David pulled his arm down from over his eyes to glare blearily at the younger man. "God, I hate it when you do that...B'sides, it was good 'nough this afta'noon..."

"Why do you _think_ I do it, Mr. _the_ American Idol?" Andy poked him squarely in the chest, and David growled in mock annoyance. "I'm saying it's not good enough _now_ \-- I've got obligations, as your host, to ensure that you get a good night's rest, and that couch is absolutely not gonna cut it."

"I jus' think you wanna cop a feel while I sleep."

"Well, it certainly isn't because I find your snoring particularly melodious..."

"You're'n asshole..."

Andy barely had time to duck the throw pillow aimed at his head.

"Dude, I'm serious -- _chainsaws_ are quieter!"

He dodged another poorly-aimed cushion as he burst out laughing.

"C'mon, Dave," he giggled, shoving the other man's shoulder gently. " _Bed._ "

\----------

"So!" David rolled lazily onto his side, facing Andy in the dim light, running a hand along his arm as he threw the younger man a slow smile. "'Zactly what kinda Dom _do_ you think is right f'r me?"

Andy returned the smile easily, giving David's shoulder a gentle shove to put him flat on his back. "The kind that doesn't take advantage of the alcohol-impaired."

"Hey! 'M _to_ tally not drunk!" David protested, rolling back almost immediately. "I only had thr--fo--okay, five beers, man!" he relented, advancing the numbers as Andy's eyebrows ratcheted upwards. "Y'know me, buddy...tha's not drunk -- tha's uninhibited!"

Unperturbed, Andy again nudged him to his back. "Yeah, and I'll remind you that the Internet is full of pictures of you being 'uninhibited' which you don't even remember being taken--"

"Even if I remember my safe word?"

"God, you're a _sassy_ sub! No wonder you get more play as a Dom..."

"...You _like_ that, don't you."

"God, more than you know..." Andy breathed, and then groaned softly. "Nuh-uh; David, don't. You cannot give informed consent while you are impaired, and you know it." He pushed the older man onto his back a third time, and held him there with a hand pressed over David's heartbeat. "Don't ask me to do this, please."

David snorted in mock irritation, throwing his arms out to his sides. "Leave it to me to find the conscientious one..."

"Hey, it's the law of averages -- you had to come across one of us sooner or later, right?"

"Nice double entendre, douche..."

"Since when does the sub do the 'coming' across anything?"

"You, sir!" David giggled helplessly, poking Andy in the chest. "...Dammit!"

Andy didn't think he'd ever hear anything more musical than David's drunken laughter. His throat tightened with emotion.

"You!" David repeated, stabbing at Andy again. "Tomorrow, you!"

Andy grinned. "It's a date."

"Promise?"

" _Sleep,_ David." Andy gave him one final shove to the side, watching as David's eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out into sleep.

"...Promise," he whispered into the dark, and he smiled as David sighed.


End file.
